


Scars

by Starkvenger



Series: Billy Batson Needs More Love [2]
Category: Captain Marvel (DC), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Billy-centric, Childhood Trauma, Headcanon, Hurt Billy Batson, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, One Shot, Pain, Protective Justice League, Scars, Sick Billy, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8963809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkvenger/pseuds/Starkvenger
Summary: Every scar Shazam gets stays on Billy Batson's body. The League doesn't know this, and the young boy is determined to keep it this way. If he himself can't even stand to look at the scars sometimes, how would his teammates react? He can't even begin to imagine.~ Based off a Head-canon ~





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So I decided to take one of my stories from my collection of one-shots and give it its own fic.  
> Don't ask me why, I just fee like there's not enough love for Billy Batson here, ok?
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

**~ ~ ~ Scars ~ ~ ~**

 

* Enjoy! *

 

Nighttime in Fawcett City was always something to enjoy. Especially on nights like this, when a cool breeze came from the hills, and an air of calm blanketed the town. Stars shined brightly above the peaceful town, twinkling beside the moon.

Captain Marvel made his usual rounds about the city, flying above buildings and over rooftops as he searched for any sign of trouble. It had been a quiet night so far, with only a possible argument going south to break up.

The hero had become lost in his thoughts, worrying over the upcoming League meeting that warned importance. He had been wracking his brain trying to figure out what it could be about, and even with the Wisdom of Solomon, he was no closer to finding the answer.

Once finished with his nightly patrol, Captain Marvel checked his surroundings before descending into a dark alleyway. He looked around once more, and, finding no one in sight, said the words that would transform him back to his mortal state. 

"SHAZAM!"

Lightning cracked in the sky and smoke billowed up from where the transformation had occurred, and Billy Batson stood in the place the hero had been only moments earlier. The 10-year-old coughed and waved the smoke away, pulling up his hood and unrolling his sleeves. He did so quickly, trying not to look at the raised pink flesh that covers his arms. 

He had had these scars for a while now, ever since he first transformed into Captain Marvel, but it still bothered the boy to see them. It didn't help, either, that whenever the World's Mightiest Mortal got into a particularly nasty fight, extra scarring would show up on his other half's skin.

Billy had thought about showing the League before, back when it first happened, because, at the time, he wasn't sure where the scars were coming from or why he had them. Over time he had learned that anything that would scar Captain Marvel, wouldn't, because of his healing factor. But that didn't stop the scars from appearing on Billy's body. 

His decision not to tell the league had been set in stone when they discovered he was actually a child and had really overreacted. 

Billy shook the confusing and saddening thoughts from his head, continuing on down the dark street. He soon came to an abandoned building, the place he called home. The boy crawled through a hole he had made in the fence, pulling his shirt down when it had come up to cover the scars on his back. 

He walked with his hands in his pockets up the cracked sidewalk, opening the fragile door and closing it behind him. Billy looked around at the barren room of the first floor, then made his way to the staircase that was against the back wall. He climbed it slowly, lost in his thoughts once more.

Once on the second floor, he looked around to find that his things were still there, thank god, though as minuscule a blessing that may be. Billy saw that the old mattress still lay on the floor against the mildew stained wall, a thread-bare blanket laid half-hazard over it. In the corner near the window, there was a red sweatshirt with a hand-sewn lightning bolt on it, a souvenir from a civilian Captain Marvel had saved. 

He couldn't wear the token out in public, for fear of someone questioning its origin, or worse, finding the person who made it and having them think Captain Marvel didn't appreciate the gift. However, that didn't stop the boy from using it at night for extra warmth. He put the sweatshirt on overtop his shirt, smiling at the warmth the fabric gave him. 

Billy lay down on the mattress, staring up at the old ceiling above him. His mind wandered back to his scars, something that had been happening quite often lately, and furrowed his brow. He took a deep breath and pulled off the sweatshirt, shivering at the sudden cold. He pushed through it, taking off his long-sleeve shirt as well. Billy stood, walking over to the mirror with a single crack in it, and examined his body. 

He swallowed thickly as he touched a long, tree-like scar that ran from the edge of his jaw, down his shoulder blade, around and under his armpit, down his side, and disappeared into his pants at the pelvis. the scar branched off at different points, curving around his would-be pectorals had he not been so small, curving around his arms, the left coming all the way down to his wrist, along his spine, and coming just under his collarbone. 

He flinched as he touched the scars, practically able to feel the electricity that lay beneath the surface. Billy sighed, knowing this scar would be one that would never fade, for it was the same path the lighting always travelled whenever he became Captain Marvel. 

The boy moved onto other scars, ones gained through battle, and the ones that reminded him of the dangerous things he did as a lifestyle. 

He gently touched a small pink line just above his pelvis, a mark from where he had been stabbed by Dr. Sivana, the sight bringing back an uneasy feeling in his gut. He focused his attention on a different scar, this one running from his left collarbone to the top of his bellybutton. It reminded him of the particularly painful and rare time that he had been Billy Batson, not Cap, and had gotten this on his own accord. 

Cap himself had been captured by the now long-dead villain Captain Nazi, drugged and tortured to the point he couldn't hold his godly form anymore. He had been forced to change back into Billy Batson, and the man had leapt at the chance to do some permanent damage. 

Billy really didn't want to think of the memory, or of any other memory that came to mind when looking over his scarred body. The thought of it all made tears well in his eyes, and he fell to his knees as he stared at his cracked, broken reflection.

This was the price he paid to protect those couldn't protect themselves, and sometimes, it was hard to live with. Sometimes the memories and phantom pain was hard to live with. 

 

~ ~ ~

 

Billy woke up the next morning in his bed, both his shirt and sweatshirt on. He yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The boy scratched at his jaw, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the window.

He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, bare feet hitting the wooden floor of the room. The boy stood slowly, carefully scratching his back at places he knew there weren't scars. He then pulled on his socks and shoes, and took off the over-sized sweatshirt and hung it over the chair near the window. 

Billy stretched one more time, this time letting out a small grunt. He opened the cupboard against the wall to find it, unsurprisingly, empty. he sighed, shaking his head. The boy then opened the door and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and into the bright morning air. 

What the boy didn't know was that the small, nearly microscopic camera that had been hidden in his room by a very sneaky cowled superhero had recorded everything from the night before.

Up in the Watchtower, Batman sat at a desk, watching tiredly as footage from each of the heroes civilian lives was recorded. He flicked through footages, from Hal Jordan eating dinner, to Clark reading a newspaper and sipping coffee on his balcony. 

That was, until, he got to Captain Marvel's footage. 

Batman paused when he saw the young boy kneeling before a cracked mirror, running his fingers along massive, terrifying-looking scars. They were the kinds of things only grown men or war heroes should wear, and yet, there sat a young man, no older than 10, running his fingers along what looked to be  _lightning_ scars.

The caped crusader noticed there were various other scars, from bullet wounds to knife scars, but the most definable and one that shook the man to his very core was the one that looked like plantlife, spiraling and running around the small boy's frame. If this was what happened when the boy became Captain Marvel....

Batman had to tell the rest of the League.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The video of the boy examining his scars was played on the massive screen before the group of heroes, the adults staring with mixtures of horror and solemness on their faces. Clark sat silently, staring as the boy flinched when coming in contact with his own skin, as if it burned him. 

The image disappeared when Billy stood up, putting his shirt back on, along with his oversized hoodie. He climbed onto the mattress and lay down, covering up with the threadbare blanket and falling asleep quickly.

Batman stood before the group, his face even more unreadable than normal. "I realize you have questions. But unfortunately I won't be answering any of them," he said bluntly, taking the USB with the video on it out of the League computer. "Whether or not Batson has these scars is none of our business, otherwise, he'd have told us by now." he said, pocketing the device.

"No one is to confront him on this matter, got it? If you'll recall how you reacted to his civilian identity, I believe you'll realize why Billy has yet to tell us of these scars." Batman told the group with a sigh. "If he comes forward himself, that will be different, but NO ONE is to confront him on the matter. Got it?"

The league had been quiet until this point, but the billionaire noticed tensions were growing. Kent's fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were white, while Diana gripped his shoulder with equal strength. Bats noticed that Cyborg had been noticeably absent, and only now saw that he was keeping an eye on Billy. 

"That's bullshit, Wayne, and you know it." Jordan finally spoke up, drawing attention to himself. "We gotta know if the kid's alright. Barry and I can go check up on him, just like normal, and see if anything's up about his skin. Maybe if we drop some clues he'll open up to us." he said, grabbing the Flash's arm and hoisting him up. 

Batman frowned, wasn't this exactly what he just told them  _not_ to do? "No, Hal I just said-" he was cut off by Diana, who hoisted her sword into the air.

"Yes! We need to check up on the child. If his marks are truly that of a warrior's, they need to be celebrated." she said, sheathing the weapon and taking her hand off Superman's shoulder. Clark nodded, a smile on his face. "Yea, and while 'celebrated' is one way to go, we should check and see if they are causing him any problems," he said determinedly. 

"Guys, this isn't-" Bruce was cut off this time by Cyborg, who's eyes widened in surprise.

"Billy's in trouble," he said simply, relaying the video that had probably been feeding through his sensors onto the League monitor. A feed of Billy walking with his hands in his pockets towards an alley gained the group's attention.

 

**~ ~ ~**

 

Billy walked down the sidewalk, a cool breeze blowing through his hair as he kept his gaze down on his shoes. He turned into an alley and looked up to find a teenager, a grimy, pot-head by the looks of it, standing with two other guys against a wall. The trio looked at him and smirked, dropping their cigarettes from their mouths. 

"Well if it isn't the lightning boy." the leader said, his yellow teeth grinning at the boy. Billy tensed, eyes widening as he took a step back. "Harris, I- I don't mean any trouble..." he got out before he was picked up by the collar of his old shirt.

"You got a lot of nerve showin' your face 'round here, lightning boy." the teen spat, jerking his shirt so that it began to tear. This trio of nitwits had been calling him that ever since they learned of his lightning-unduced scar, accusing him of being a science experiment gone wrong or the Flash's rejected siekick.

Billy's nerves were already on edge, and when the bully did this, he began to thrash. "No- no, please Harris! Not again, PLEASE!" Billy struggled, his small hands wrapped around the bully's fist. he hated having to resort to pleading, but it was the only thing he had left.

The teen grinned like a maniac, bringing up his lit cigarette. "Why don't we add to the lightning, boys?" he asked, looking back to the pair of teens behind him. He ripped the boy's shirt completely, revealing his scarred chest. "Well there it is, boys. Lightning boy's signature marks." he said with a grin. 

"NO, HARRIS PLEASE!!" Billy screamed, eyed widening further when the cigarette was brought closer to his skin.

"Maybe this'll teach you not to try to be a hero, kid." the teen's breath made Billy's eyes burn, and he teared up as he could practically feel the cigarette's heat get closer to his skin. He cried out as the butt was jabbed into his side, making him squirm and tears well in his eyes. 

The boy wanted desperately to call down the lightning that would change him, make the pain go away and keep the bullies from ever messing with him again, but he knew that he could never do that, he could and would never use that power for his own personal gain, or worse, as a scare tactic.  

So, he took it, as best he could, as the cigarettes were extinguished on his soft, vulnerable skin, burning him and making him scream.

 

**~ ~ ~**

 

The video that played on the monitor brought silence with it in the watchtower. As Billy's screams echoed through the halls, the boy's pain never seemed more real. The heroes stood, stunned at the sight before them.

"Why won't he use his powers? The streets are practically empty!" Barry said, fear written across his face. 

Bruce clenched his jaw, watching as the teenagers burned the defenseless boy. "Because he knows better," he said simply, trying to keep his voice steady. The man glanced to the side to find Diana trying to keep Clark in his seat, though her own anger was boiling close to the surface. 

"William realizes that to use his powers would be taking advantage of them, and that's something he's sworn never to do," Diana said, looking over her shoulder as she continued to keep Superman in his seat. 

The Kryptonian's eyes were glowing a low red, his knuckles white as he gripped his league chair. "We have to help him!" Clark said, standing up and knocking Diana backward. "I won't stand for this, and neither should any of you," he growled, rocketing towards a Zeta Tube. Bruce's eyes widened, reaching out to grab the man's cape as he flew by, only to catch air. 

The computer's voice chimed as the coordinates were set, and Superman disappeared in a flash of light. "Damnit, Kent!" Bruce said, slamming his fist on the table. He let out an annoyed breath, standing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We have to go after him before he does something we all will regret," he said, walking swiftly toward the tubes.

He paused, glancing back before taking off his cowl. "We need to do this right. If people see the Justice League in Fawcett City out of the blue, they'll think something is wrong. It's bad enough Superman went off in a fit of rage, we don't need the rest of the League to follow his lead." he said, tucking the mask away. 

The members nodded in agreement, following his lead. Hal took off his ring, pocketing it in his flight suit. Barry did the same, costume vanishing with a whirling flash of red. The billionaire looked to Diana, who, surprisingly, was buttoning a light blue shirt over her uniform. She put on a pair of glasses, (great, she must have been taking notes from Kent...) and smiled determinedly. 

"Cyborg, stay here in case of any trouble that needs our attention," Bruce commanded, the man nodding in response. He turned on his heels, grabbing a coat off the wall and buttoning it around his suit. 

Once the location was set, the light enveloped them and they appeared in a dark alley in Fawcett City.

The group of heroes scanned their surroundings, coming out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, where civilians passed them without a second glance. Bruce looked at his watch, setting coordinates for Kryptonian energy source, and followed suit. 

 

**~ ~ ~**

 

Billy was dropped to the asphalt when the cigarettes were nothing but garbage, their heat extinguished. The boy held his stomach tightly, knowing well it did nothing to ease the pain, but gave him a sense of comfort. 

He winced as he got up on one knee, clutching his stomach with one hand, and balancing himself on a dumpster with the other. The boy hadn't noticed the caped crusader descending behind him and bent down to pick up a torn piece of his shirt. 

It wasn't until he saw the shadow of a man on the ground that he knew he wasn't alone in the alley again. Billy dared a glance back, eyes widening when he saw Superman floating a few feet above the ground. The morning sun seemed to outline the hero in a beam of light, making him look like a godsend.  

The boy came to his senses in an instant, however, and quickly went to cover his chest with what remained of his shirt. "S-Superman! W-what are you doing here? Heh- I uh-" he stammered, avoiding the man's gaze. 

He had expected a disappointed look, an angry glare, or something along the lines of asking why he had missed a league meeting- had he missed a call on his comm? He hoped not.

"Are you ok, Billy?" was what he heard, which surprised him, to say the least. The boy tilted his head and made sure his body was covered before looking back at the hero who had landed in front of him.

"I- What do you mean?" he asked, though he had thought, or, _hoped_  Clark hadn't seen the teenager tormenting him.  Billy swallowed thickly when the man raised a brow, putting his hand on Billy's shoulder. He helped to keep him balanced and avoided the Kryptonian's gaze once more.

"You know what I mean, Billy." Superman replied, giving him a look of concern.

Oh. So  _that's_ what this was about. 

"How- How did you-" he asked, only to be cut off by the group of adults in varying forms of casual wear that had appeared at the end of the alley. If the boy was honest with himself, he was relieved to see them, but the question was still there.

 _How did you know about my scars?_  

Billy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck while he held his shirt closed. "Lemme guess...you guys are here for the same reason..." he said, unable to look at them. If they hadn't trusted him before, there was no way in Hell they would ever trust him now. After two secrets kept from them, two big ones, mind you, he knew they'd never look at him the same way.

He teared up, the water blurring his vision as he tried to explain his position. "Listen, before you say anything, I wanna say that I'm sorry I didn't t-" the boy was cut off by warmth enveloping him, which made him panic for a moment. 

It was only when he actually blinked away the tears and saw that it was Bruce of all people who had kneeled down and was  _hugging him._ The boy was speechless, his mouth hanging open as Barry and Diana did the same. He had no clue what was going on, but it wasn't like he was going to refuse the affection. He let himself be hugged by the adults, which by now there were five, and felt his cheeks warm up with a blush.

"I- I don't understand..." he started, only to be stopped by a finger from Diana. 

"William. We saw what happened," she said, her voice powerful, even in her civilian disguise. "And, though you may not wish us so, we fear for you often," she told him with a sad smile.,

"-And, we understand why you'd want to hide....well, you know....from us." Hal chimed in, gesturing with a nod to the child's body. "Hell, there's a few scars I've got that remind me of some pretty dark times," he said, only to be nudged by Barry.

"What were tryin' to say, kiddo, is that you don't have to hide anything from us. We may be a little overbearing from your point of view, but that's cause we don't want to see you hurt. And I know, that sounds like I'm talking down to you, but I'm not. We're a family, and we all get worried about each other from time to time." the speedster said, flashing him a bright smile.

"When you're ready, you can show us them. We won't push you or try to get anything out of you." Bruce said, glancing at Hal and Barry for only a moment. "And if you're never ready- then that's your business." he finished. 

Billy nodded at the information, trying to take it all in. They- they trusted him, they still did, and fully too. They weren't going to push him to tell them about them, which was good, cause Billy didn't know if he ever would be able to talk about them. He realized he was lost in his own thoughts, and managed a smile. "Thanks." he said.

"Come on, why don't we go back to the Watchtower and get those burns looked at. Cyborg will want to give you something for them." Bruce spoke up again, leading the group out of the alley. Billy nodded, following them. 

He inwardly thanked the gods that the team still trusted him, and thanked them even further that, for once, he'd have something good to associate with a scar.  

 

**~ ~ ~ THE END! ~ ~ ~**

**Author's Note:**

> Again, there's not enough love shown to Billy on this site!
> 
> And I feel like people are more likely to read something that's on its own than if it is bundled together with a bunch of other one-shots.... so here ya go!


End file.
